


Tomorrows, Yesterdays

by amooniesong



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Gen, Goodbyes, Hurt No Comfort, Mortality, One Shot, Speeches, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:02:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28702605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amooniesong/pseuds/amooniesong
Summary: Logically, it made sense that they’d lose George first.They just… They hadn’t expected to lose him quite so soon.They were only in their thirties. The three of them had been friends since they were teenagers and they’d decided when they were younger that they would remain the best of friends throughout their lives - whatever that meant. Their careers had gone beyond YouTube and Twitch, their personal lives had grown to include wives and children, they’d changed so much over the twenty years they’d known each other.But, when they’d said they would be friends for the rest of their lives, they’d banked on having more than twenty years together.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 51
Kudos: 80





	Tomorrows, Yesterdays

Logically, it made sense that they’d lose George first.

They just… They  _ hadn’t  _ expected to lose him quite so soon.

They were only in their thirties. The three of them had been friends since they were teenagers and they’d decided when they were younger that they would remain the best of friends throughout their lives - whatever that meant. Their careers had gone beyond YouTube and Twitch, their personal lives had grown to include wives and children, they’d changed so much over the twenty years they’d known each other.

But, when they’d said they would be friends for the rest of their lives, they’d banked on having more than twenty years together.

Graveyards were never fun places to be, but this particular graveyard would forever be remembered particularly sourly by Dream and Sapnap. Yet, at the same time, it would be remembered fondly. The bittersweetness of knowing that they’d lost their friend and he would be laid to rest here, but that his body and memories would remain for them to revisit whenever they pleased, caused their stomachs to twist and their throats to constrict. If it weren’t for the bitter cold air that England always seemed to carry with it, they might have opened their mouths to sob. Instead, silent tears fell, the two standing side by side in dark suits as they watched the casket of their best friend being lowered into the ground.

George’s mother was crying, as was his wife. His children were too young to really comprehend what was happening, and that only served to break Dream’s heart more.

When the crowd was asked if they wanted to say a few final words to remember George by, the paper and script was left inside Dream’s jacket pocket. He was certain that, with the on-and-off drizzle of the day, it was too damp to hold anyway, but now that he was standing here and in the moment he realised that no amount of preparation could envision words that truly fit.

He stepped forward, stood at the head of the hole in the ground, and cast his eyes to Sapnap. Perhaps that was selfish - that he couldn’t even look George’s family in the eye - but George had been part of their family too. Their trio had been reduced to a pair, and Sapnap was the man he found the most comfort in.

“I’ve known George for years.” Dream began. His voice was soft and tired, though not from the jet lag, and he took in a breath to pace himself.

“I’ve  _ loved  _ George for years. We were teenagers when we met, he came into my life playing Minecraft of all things and before long the three of us - me, him, and Nick - we were doing  _ everything  _ together. All our highs, all our lows, we did everything as a trio.” He paused, chuckling for a moment as he recalled one story that was  _ definitely  _ not appropriate for a funeral. “We promised it would always be that way. We planned our lives out together behind screens during a pandemic, talked about our ambitions, our hopes, our dreams. If I close my eyes now I can picture it like it was yesterday.” He swallowed.

“George did everything he wanted to do with his life, though I know that he would have wanted to keep doing all those things for a little while longer. He would have wanted to grow old with his wife, to watch his children grow up and do what they loved. He would have wanted to travel once more, to make people laugh again… I suppose…” 

Dream felt a drop of water fall from the sky, landing on his head, and he paused to look up for a moment. The clouds overhead were still light, but it seemed fitting that rain fell anyway.

“I suppose this reminds us not to take anything, or anyone, for granted. Just because I could wake up and talk to George whenever I wanted every day for the last twenty years doesn’t mean that I’m guaranteed a tomorrow, none of us are. I think the best way we can honour George is to remember that. He would want us to remember him by loving each other.”

Dream sniffled, he brought a hand to his face and wiped the mixture of rain and tears away from his cheeks, before thanking the vicar for the opportunity to speak and returning to Sapnap’s side.

Later, when they returned to their hotel and changed into something more comfortable than their damp suits before joining George’s family for dinner, the pair were inseparable. They had always found a kind of comfort in each other - relishing in any opportunity for physical contact as a friendship based online and from a distance rarely gave that - but today that was moreso. Hands were held, shoulders were nudged, embraces shared. None if it felt the same without the voice of a certain British man teasing them for the quiet gestures of friendship that they shared, and that only spurred them on to do it all the more.

It was almost as if they could hear him - as if he was still sitting with them. 

When the two boarded separate flights back to America, the reality of the situation hit home. More than it had when they had been contacted by George’s wife, more than it had when they’d picked out their suits or bought their flowers, and more than it had on that grey, damp, cold English day.

Dream swore he would never take his tomorrows with Sapnap for granted.

And more than twenty-thousand days, he kept that promise.

As if more proof were needed that George had been taken from them too soon, it was over fifty years between his funeral and Sapnap’s. Dream wore the same suit - it had been kept all this time for that express purpose - and when he went to slip the speech he’d prepared into his inside pocket he found the old, disintegrated paper that once held his goodbye’s for George still there.

Before he’d even left his bathroom, Dream cried.

Losing George had been a shock, and that shock had stuck with Dream for the rest of his life. Losing Sapnap had been  _ expected,  _ to an extent, but the pain wasn’t any less. Just because they were old men - losing their hair, shrinking, wrinkling and consuming more medication than food - didn’t mean that death was any less painful. Just because death became commonplace didn’t mean that Dream’s heart couldn’t shatter more.

Equally, just because he’d shared another fifty years with Sapnap than he had George didn’t mean that his death held any greater burden over his soul.

When he stood at the front of the hall in front of Sapnap’s children and grandchildren, he had to use a cane to move from his seat to the podium. When he spoke, his hands gripped the wood before him to help him keep his balance as his energy was sapped from him much more quickly than the last time he’d done this.

“I miss him.” He began, voice hoarse and gentle. Dream knew everyone in the room - he’d been a part of Sapnap’s life since they were teenagers and that meant that they were family. After George had died, especially, the two of them worked to emphasize that. He’d been an honorary uncle to Sapnap’s children, he was a godfather to many of his grandchildren, and he’d seen graduations, weddings, and birthdays. 

“We all miss him.” 

Dream could count on one hand how many friends he had left that hadn’t died yet. Every day that passed there seemed to be a letter inviting him to say goodbye, or a phone call informing him of a friend who’s illness had taken a turn for the worst. Before long, he knew he would be alone. He knew that one day, too, death would catch up to him. For now he was still walking, still talking, still very much alive, but that wouldn’t last forever.

“I know a lot of you don’t think this, but I’m an old man.” He said, and the crowd gave a small chuckle through their tears. 

Dream smiled a little. Even after all this time, he could still make people laugh. That felt nice.

“My memory was a lot better once upon a time, but I don’t mind, because now that I’m starting to forget things I get to say this: meeting Nick was my earliest memory. And Nick, my dear Nick, I know that even when everything else has left my mind I’ll still remember you.”

He paused. When one hand moved from the podium to his pocket he realised that it shook, and as such he took his time removing the handkerchief and bringing it to his face. He dabbed at the tears that were falling, and he looked out into the crowd again.

“Last time I spoke at a funeral, Nick and I had lost our friend George. The  _ Dream Team,  _ they used to call the three of us.” He sniffled. “When I said goodbye to George, I said that we should never take our tomorrows with someone for granted, and Nick and I never did. But now that I’m older, now that I’m starting to forget a few things, I think I have some different advice for you all.” 

Another sniffle, another pause for him to wipe away tears.

“Don’t take yesterday for granted, either. Because you never know what you might forget, and what you might lose. If you still have that person by your side you might think nothing of it, because you’re going to make tomorrow count, but when you’re old like me, when you’re the last one standing and your memories are all you’ve got, you’ll understand the value of your yesterdays as well as your tomorrows.”

There was no rain this time: Sapnap was being cremated and so the funeral was taking place inside. As he walked away from the podium and back to his seat, instead of the howling of wind in his ears he could hear the scuffing of his shoes on the floor, the click of his cane, sniffles, ruffling purses… It didn’t  _ feel  _ like a funeral the same way that George’s funeral had.

But, at the end of the day, he was still the last one alive.

Dream had never  _ really  _ expected to outlive both of his best friends, though he’d never truly given much thought as to the order of which he’d lose them. In the days after Sapnap’s funeral, when he was home alone with no one to call and no one to visit, he thought that the most painful part in being the last of your friends to die was the time spent waiting for death to come. 

He realised though, in the hours before he passed, that he’d been wrong. 

The most painful part in being the last to die was knowing that there would be no one left to say goodbye.

**Author's Note:**

> fuck you for making [that tweet](https://twitter.com/hannahisaway/status/1348768774862884866) hannah
> 
> comments & kudos are appreciated, go follow [my twitter](https://twitter.com/moonieiswriting) (not hannah's twitter), & consider [joining my discord](https://discord.gg/HEj9Z8h27w) if you want to yell at me more for this! i understand!


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